He Did Not Do It
by anesor
Summary: Dragon Age Awakenings, Anders POV, NOT a one-shot anymore. Chapter 3: Heirs can inherit bad attitudes, too.
1. I Didn't Do It!

_Dragon Age Awakenings, Anders, the doomed spear carrier and darkspawn are the property of Bioware. The warden is mine._

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"I didn't do it..." I knew that sounded lame and unbelievable when I said it to the two armored women. One was a bit plain and the other more of a looker for a dwarf, but I still hoped for a harem of women someday, as unlikely as that was for a hunted, apostate mage.

They'd arrived when I was still gleeful the darkspawn were dead and I wasn't, a real victory for someone who'd rarely fought with his magic. I wasn't going to shed any tears over those Templars' deaths, nor would they over mine. Still these people might be upset about them, so the denial fairly leapt from my lips.

Still wary, they scanned for more enemies before standing down. The taller woman deferred without words to the dwarf, something odd in itself for Ferelden.

"So you're a mage?" the dwarf asked, sheathing her great sword.

Relaxing a little at the lack of venom, I quipped, "What was your first clue?"

"Aside from the dissipating magic spell, the magic staff, and the robes that look like they're from maybe the Anderfels and not the Circle, I have no idea," she grinned.

"You know a lot for a dwarf," I marveled.

Her face stilling, she said, "One of my better friends is an apostate." Smile returning, she added, "I made her wear Circle robes and a silly hat that we found so we'd get less objections to her in towns. No one seemed to even consider she wasn't a Circle mage then."

I frowned at that.

"No, no," she chuckled, "She was still herself, and even if she didn't get the joke for a while. Then the blindness of all the other humans amused her to no end. She could say the most outrageous things and they'd assume she was Circle."

"Commander, we must move on..." the other woman protested.

Commander? I'd heard the Warden Commander was due to take command soon. This dwarf killed the Archdemon?

"Yes, but we can spare a moment. Leaving him here alone isn't safe, and another mage is always helpful. You surfacers are stupid to turn away people who can help against the darkspawn. I seem to recall your chant is pretty firm that 'doing unprovoked harm' is what's bad in the Maker's sight. He's not doing that, so he's not an abomination. Ancestors know, you humans are too quick to condemn mages without that harm thing," the Warden Commander scolded gently.

The other woman backed down by saluting, and the, I guess Hero of Ferelden, rolled her eyes at that.

I wanted to kiss her. I knew dwarves, especially from Orzimmar, were resistant to magic, but I never realized that would mean they didn't fear it as much either. I needed more dwarven friends.

I bowed, trying to be suave, "I would love to help such gallant ladies. I'm Anders."

"Glad for your help," she said with a grin. "You can call me Phylla, I left rank behind some time ago, even if some people keep trying to give me more. This is Mhairy."

She'd done this before, as shortly she'd directed us into a pattern while searching where I'd hang back casting spells from more safely and they'd take the punishment until all the darkspawn were dead. But one larger room had more darkspawn, one too far for them to reach before he cast a spell.

In a matter of seconds there was a howl of winds and a shell of ice had formed around me and I couldn't move. Neither did Mhairy. I could only look on as the darkspawn filled the area around us.

_Maker, I don't want to die._

Phylla was still fighting, having resisted the spell. When she threw a mob around her back with a swing of that great sword, she saw what had happened to us.

Throwing her sword wide she stomped her foot and the magic drained away from around us, ending the storm.

Even as I could move again, in another way I was still shocked. She was a Templar? A mage hunter? A dwarf? Was that possible? I didn't feel any of the lyrium that Templars were usually steeped in.

She made for the darkspawn mage and killed him quickly. It was only a very short time until they all were dead.

I had to ask with some fear, "Am I your prisoner?"

"By the Stone, no," Phylla said, looking surprised, holding her great sword and panting. "Why would I want a prisoner? Too much work. If you become a deadly threat, like a blood mage or abomination or werewolf, a clean death is all I can offer. Tranquil are..." She paused as she sheathed her sword, "Tranquil are nearly as horrible as abominations. Maybe worse as they appear almost normal, still living, still with their memories. Others can fool themselves into thinking those mages weren't executed. That's as much a death sentence as a clean blade, but far more cruel to friends and clan, even if they don't mind anymore. How can they face the Maker or join the Ancestors if they have been reforged so? My folk did as much once to the unwilling and that was evil too."

Squatting, so we'd be eye to eye, I put my arms around her, declaring dramatically, "Marry me, my moon haired exotic lady." I wasn't completely joking, she was handsome, very much so for a dwarf.

She flushed, stuttering, "I'm kind of engaged to another warden."

Oh. I rallied to say, "How about healer? Court jester? Reacher of items off tall shelves? Bed warmer?"

Smiling softly she shook her head saying, "No. I only wish he was here, really, really wish."

Her eyes lost focus as she blushed. I wanted to laugh, and with a Templar yet.

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_Thanks to my beta reader, for catching awkwardness and typos. Gold stars for anyone who helps like that!_


	2. There You Are!

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and the official characters aren't mine, but belong to Bioware. Some characters like Phylla are mine. I get no money for writing this story. _

_- x x -_

"Aha! There you are!" boomed a grinning, red-bearded dwarf when the darkspawn died. The sodding dwarf stopped in mid-fight to wave at us.

Phylla cursed. Did all dwarves know each other, like some family? Neither looked greedy, like a dwarf trading from his cart in the middle of an abandoned road.

He told Mhairi with a crude lipsmack, "You look like you need an evening with the Pride of Orzammar..."

I didn't blame her for her distaste, not with that sobriquet. Oghren was as subtle as a kick in the groin, raising my hopes with her.

Lifting my robe a bit, I stepped over a melting darkspawn corpse. I really didn't want to get my robe bloody.

That caught his attention, and Oghren stopped his boasting to insult me. I limited my crudeness as Mhairi hadn't said 'no' yet.

If he was joining the Grey Wardens, I wasn't quite as impressed by their standards. He'd probably start a war with the Chantry by crudely propositioning a Grand Cleric. Phylla wasn't impressed by his bragging, so he offended not just humans. Maybe male dwarves were ruder. I didn't remember seeing females much.

He would make a second recruit and when they'd lost many today. She warned this Oghren and maybe the girl about risk. I wondered what risk was greater than fighting darkspawn through the night.

Many corpses littered this keep. We found another recruit who was dying, a friend of Mhairi's but I couldn't do anything for him. His spirit passed the Veil even as he said goodbye to her. Other spirits gathered for his passing, and my words weren't as kind as I'd prefer.

Explaining to Templars was impossible and so Phylla glared at me when I said nothing. The longer I stayed, the more I realized the Veil was thinner than it should be.

We systematically explored the keep and found too many rooms and halls with too many darkspawn. More than I thought possible, but Oghren fought with Phylla during the Blight. They took these fights as mere skirmishes. Mhairi and I exchanged surprised looks at that.

"That's the last nearby," Phylla said, looking up. "There's more, maybe on the roof... is that the right word?"

"There's more quarters below the battlements, Ser," Mhairi said grimly, "But... we found the other recruits. I think there were at least a full score of wardens sent from Orlais."

Mhairi had the proper Fereldan curl to her lip when she mentioned Orlesians, revealing a bit of her pearly teeth. Maybe I could stay here a while before moving on.

There were no more darkspawn as Mhairi led us. They got angrier, and I wasn't sure why. There weren't that many casualties compared to rumors of the Blight, a few score including the Templars that brought me here.

Mhairi spoke with her jaw clenched, "We're missing too many bodies, Ser. Torin, Vanionin, Gioni, and Kayas Braden, I knew them only by name while we waited for your arrival. The wardens didn't want to speak to us recruits, they were... cold."

Looking away, Mhairi missed an instant of sadness on Phylla's face.

Oghren finished a slug and called out, "Hey, Warden, You still tapping the midnight still with the little pike twirler?"

Phylla snarled, "Alistair is fulfilling an oath. You've got better odds of a sexy nug in the next room than bedding me."

"We don't have to use the bed..." he leered at her, licking his lips. "I've got a taste for Paragons."

"Shut up, you arse. Do it again, and you'll need to win a Proving to stay here," the Warden Commander threatened.

This was more dwarven culture than I wanted to know. Now I didn't doubt she'd killed dragons. I was wondering how far back I'd need move if they fought.

That passed when we found the door to the battlements. For a moment I enjoyed the fresh air and freedom, but first Phylla tensed and waved a combat warning.

Creeping around, a darkspawn... threatened some officer. It speaking made me feel almost sick, as no legend told of that. Maybe it was one of those who'd attacked the golden city? It looked old enough.

When seeing us, the darkspawn stabbed the officer casually as both sides charged. Throwing enough healing on the officer to keep him from dying, I almost got sliced. That blasted creature started chasing me around the battlement. Stupid blighter, I didn't look good in blood.

Everyone was bloody before the dried out thing died.

Hushed, Mhairi told us as I healed the officer, "This is Seneschal Varel, he's been in command."

Gazing around intently, Phylla announced uneasily, "They're gone, I think."

Varel welcomed Phylla. Sunrise came when I hadn't noticed. I was just glad to be free while they talked, and spotted a distant troop marching in the early light. The Circle wouldn't send so many after me after so long. I hoped.

I followed along as Phylla left the keep to meet them. No one seemed to care that I was a mage; that was pleasant. Once closer, I saw some were Templars and some were in rich finery. As they came toward us, the soldiers escorting them parted. I tried to hang back, cursing my curiosity.

"Warden Commander," the blond woman said with a frown that made her almost ugly.

Phylla straightened and nodded, before saying, "Anora."

Varel and Mhairi knelt to the queen, so I decided that was a good idea. They spoke politely, but the queen's lip curled and Phylla drew herself up with hauteur. I snuck a look at Ogren; he was smiling... and still standing.

I enjoyed the verbal fencing, but a Templar bitch decided to interrupt them. Maybe Rylok noticed Phylla's annoyance, but **not** the queen's. How quickly I was conscripted by Grey Wardens; the queen confirmed it. Too soon I drank that foully clawing liquid and blacked out.

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_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	3. If it isn't the great hero

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

"If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil." The dark haired man standing inside the open cell looked down too easily at Phylla's dwarven height. "So you're the new Commander of the Grey, the one they've been talking about here. I assumed you would be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes. I can't see it."

Phylla held onto her smile, but barely. "It's an easy mistake. I have friends who can do lightning tricks, though."

"I would have thought you Grey Wardens would be more impressive." His lips had a nobleman's sneer to go with his anger.

I caught myself thinking of the Wardens as being just Phylla and the friend she mentioned, but Oghren and I were Wardens now, too.

_Waking and disoriented, I was on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room even if my insides weren't that sure I was allowed to keep them. I felt off balance as I finished waking, remembering the faintest bit of some horrible dream. The only thing I remembered was a fear of being eaten from within by some demon._

_In other words, nothing new for any mage._

"_Anders?" Came from an unsmiling Phylla, sitting beside my bed and holding my hand. "I'm glad you woke up, mage."_

_I sat up, forcing my stomach to settle through will and a little magic. "That was in question?"_

_Her breath caught and she looked away. "Yes, that is one of the first Warden secrets you must keep: a fair portion of those who drink the Joining cup do not survive it. It's not martial skill or nerve, but as soon as you taste that, you are a full Warden and have all the rights, responsibilities, and sadly, the funeral honors."_

_Thinking of the fair Mhairi, I had to ask, "Did Mha... did the others make it?"_

_Turning back to me, her eyes glistening, Phylla said, "Warden Mhairi will be honored in a service later today. Warden Oghren is holding a wake beside the cask. Then again, that's no change in his off time."_

_I'd only known her for hours, and not in a close way, but she seemed such a loss. "Couldn't she be healed and prevent it?"_

"_No, I don't think so. The taint in that cup will eventually kill us all, in about thirty years at most, from what I've been told. I have met one exception, a blood mage." Her smile was obviously forced._

"_But no Circle, right? I don't have to wear Circle robes? I can throw lightning whenever I want?" I was trying to look at the bright side right now. _

_She gestured at the plain, stone wall with a tiny smile, and I sent a apprentice level bolt of electricity at it, with a whoop. As the bolt did no visible damage, I repeated it a few more times, and couldn't help laughing at the crackle and sizzle. I was glad to see that the Commander's smile was more genuine before I had finished._

_A knock at the door, and she was called down to deal with more Warden business. Pausing as I stood and looked for my staff, she added, "This is your room, Anders, though I don't think we have much else to furnish it. The crown sent few things after revoking the title to the last Arl. Anora was more than a little angry at how the duster treated her and other nobles, but Denerim is in worse shape."_

_I looked around. My own room? With a door and a real lock, too? That would make my life so much better, and I had to grin as I trotted to catch up with the Commander as she left. She was led by a guard to a small prison underground, where she was told it took four Wardens capture him._

This prisoner was one of the noble family who had owned this heap and he snarled his anger at Phylla about her order murdering his father.

I was just going to watch this talk. I thought between the three of us, an unarmed prisoner wasn't that much of a threat. She had killed an Archdemon, after all, that was very impressive to anyone, I thought.

Phylla's smile disappeared and her eyes suddenly had a glint of anger. "Your father was a brutal lackey to a worse traitor; he took advantage of the Blight to steal and murder his way to more estates. He was brutal to those who aren't even part of the Game. Politics is a nasty game I know well, but not in a collapsing tunnel."

Howe looked surprised at her brief response before taking up his complaint again about his father fighting the Orlesians and serving the hero of the River Dane battle. I wondered who he thought that would impress if he'd turned traitor.

She reached up, and still wearing those heavy metal gauntlets, swung a wallop at Howe's face. She didn't follow up as he picked himself up from the ground enough to look at her with loathing. "Now you listen close, fool. We Wardens were doing our duty to the people of this land and the entire surface. I could have gone to another thaig and left you all be eaten by the Archdemon for a few decades or centuries. When the darkspawn are up here, my people are safer, because we're not stupid enough to fight amongst ourselves while they are on a push."

Her fists clenching open and shut, she looked over at him, her anger not cooling. "Being a hero years ago **never** means that he has permission to do nug-shit things. He was as bad a tyrant in your capital as any I know of on the surface, destroying other houses and selling others into slavery. He prospered from helping a bigger traitor who abandoned your king in the field, abandoned his own daughter's husband, abandoned his own _kin by marriage_ to a bloody death so the Darkspawn put up his corpse on a fucking pole as a trophy. He allowed hundreds and thousands to die with the young king including every experienced Warden in Ferelden. The very Wardens who were the only ones who could kill the Archdemon permanently. Then they put a death price on any survivors needed to save Ferelden. How many fewer would have died in the Blight, how much less land would be barren if he'd been a tenth as noble as a bastard son?"

My eyes were wide open on hearing this, as much of this was not in the rumors I heard. I looked at Oghren, as he had a big mouth, but was not subtle at all. He looked nearly as angry as Phylla and had muttered agreement at points. I almost smiled that the noble's bloodline claims of being wronged were negated.

This younger Howe slumped a little and looked away. "I came here... I thought I was going to try to kill you. But then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left of them. Look, I know your order defeated the Blight and won the war. To the victors go the spoils, right?" He waved at the walls of the prison, or the keep.

Phylla looked sad finally, maybe even haunted a moment. I wanted to make her smile again.

Somehow, but we weren't taught much about dwarves.

I'd read once that the Noble houses made and bought some of the finest racy... literature in Thedas. They were rumored to have spouses and even many approved concubines, which sounded much more friendly, like the best part of the Circle. Outside Kinloch, monogamy limited my opportunities.

But Wardens had a reputation for stamina, and I wondered how I could parlay that in this nearly deserted keep. So far, she was the only other female who'd interested me, with the added spice of her ability to smite me. So many jests I could make of that and get groans at least. I was wondering about the possibilities when I realized she was talking to that prisoner again.

"I understand about lost family, but traitors forfeit their lands and titles. How else should kings act? There must be penalties for treason. If you had simply come and asked, I would have been happy to accommodate you for mementos. The Wardens only need the training base. Entering our base, threatening murder, and disrupting the Wardens when they were attacked by darkspawn, that is another story." She thought for a moment and snorted a laugh. "Among my people traitors are exiled into the Deep Roads, but we are a bit too far from Orzammar for that..."

"Whatever my father did, shouldn't harm my whole family, We're all pariahs now, those of us left. All thanks to you Grey Wardens, and now you get to decide my fate. Ironic, isn't it?" His harsh and cold laugh was bitter and twin to many about to go through their Harrowing.

Phylla asked him questions, but him sneaking back made a shiver go up my back at his hatred. _Just what I needed, more people who wanted to kill me._ I didn't hear her next question, but some bravado had him say he was skilled. In hunting, scouting, and poisons. I caught Oghren jerking his head a little and grinning at Phylla. Her next question was about how much he hated the Wardens, and I could hear the ambivalence about his father's actions and the Blight. Then I got it too.

"I've decided what I will do." Phylla stated, while Howe muttered something sarcastic after her last question. "I am exercising the Rite of Conscription."

He paled at that. "No! Absolutely not! Hang me first."

Oghren let out a large guffaw and slapped me on my back, knocking me a step forward.

It wasn't long before Howe drank from the Joining cup as well, and I could feel as the potion swiftly permeated his body. I could feel it spread more easily on him than I had earlier for myself.

I tried healing him without asking any permission, but it didn't seem to affect the spread at all. Phylla said he recovered faster maybe. He was still on the edge of grogginess even as we carried him to a modest room that still had some toy bows and nests mounted high on the walls.

Howe muttered groggily, "Mother, Mother? I had a horrible dream that Thomas and Delilah were dead..."

Pitching her voice higher, Phylla spoke carefully. "Shh, Shh. Rest now."

Howe turned a little and settled into sleep again. With a sigh, she settled on a stool that she set beside the bed and she waited.

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_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


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